Chapter 4
Frank tried not to pace nervously up and down the Autopsy room, knowing Red would hear him from a mile off. Not only would that ruin the surprise, but Red would probably start worrying why there were footsteps in his abandoned Autopsy room at 7pm when everyone but the night crew had gone home. Frank settled for bouncing on the balls of his feet instead, hoping the movement would be enough to settle his nerves and prevent him from rearranging his set-up for the thirteenth time.
Frank didn’t know why he was so nervous. He hadn’t felt this nervous when he’d first kissed Red – though that had been spontaneous and Frank hadn’t thought about any potential consequences – or when he’d asked Red out on their first date to that overly fancy restaurant, where they’d spent most of their time teasing each other and mocking the place enough that they’d nearly got kicked out. He hadn’t even felt this nervous when they had sex for the first time (a lie, Frank had been worrying about not living up to expectations) which had ended up being mind-blowing and had him cursing they hadn’t done it sooner.
So why was Frank so nervous now? Why were his palms sweating, his fists clenching, his hands tugging at his collar and running through his hair, and why did he have the sudden urge to lock himself in the Autopsy freezer and never come out. He and Red were a couple, they were happy together, they loved each other, they were stable and the worst Red could do was say ‘not yet.’ Frank knew Red, and he knew Red would not tell him ‘never’ and break up with him; it was not a dealbreaker for Red. All Frank was doing was giving Red a key, it wasn’t like he was asking Red to move in with him permanently or demanding Frank be allowed to live with him or asking Red to marry him. That would be moving too fast.
Although, everyone betting on when he and Red would get engaged earlier had got him wondering if maybe…
Too soon, he reminded himself firmly.
But was it?
Frank shook his head to dispel the thoughts. Now was not the time for that; he had to focus on the here and now, on what he would say and what was most likely to get Red to say yes. Frank knew it would probably all work out and he’d know what to say when the time came, but it never hurt to be prepared or have something to focus on to keep his mind occupied whilst he waited.
Fuck, if Frank was this nervous about giving Red a key, how would he be when he proposed?
Too soon!
Frank moved one of the candles from Red’s end of the table to the centre, mentally reprimanding himself and reiterating the idea that it didn’t matter what it looked like and it didn’t have to be perfect as he did it.
Karen had apparently dropped a text to Nelson gently reminding him to fuck off home early this evening, which the man had happily done. Well, not happily. Karen had mentioned Nelson had grumbled that he’d have to disinfect every flat surface and the wall tomorrow at the start of his shift because ‘they’re gonna fuck everywhere, aren’t they, and I can’t work in those conditions. It’s unhygienic’, that he’d have to find another scalpel because he ‘couldn’t use Matt’s one knowing where it had been’, and how he was ‘gonna lose the bet on who proposed to who and when.’ Apparently, he’d brightened up when Karen reminded him it meant he got to clock out early and he'd have more free time, and suddenly Nelson thought Frank’s plan was sweet and romantic.
So Nelson was gone and Frank was waiting in Autopsy, ready to whisk Red off his feet and surprise him with the romantic shit Frank knew Red secretly craved, whilst overwhelming him with love and adoration and devotion.
Except Red wasn’t there yet.
Red had been called over to Harlem for a consultation by a friend who knew of his skills and trusted him, and who apparently was the same woman who told him about the unsolved murder their serial killer had committed. Frank had heard Nelson say something about it being creepy Red was still friends with one of his ex-somethings. However, when Frank had not-so-subtly questioned Red on it, trying to decide whether he needed to be jealous or not, Red had laughed and said ‘we were an almost-something, but unlike you, Claire was unwilling to put up with my shit.' Then he'd informed Frank Claire was Cage’s fiancée and he was the one who had set them up. Frank wasn’t sure whether that was a compliment or not, but he was grateful he didn’t have to compete for Red’s affections. The emergency consultation had messed with Frank’s schedule, though, and even worse, left time for Frank to start nit-picking things and obsessing and making him angsty.
Finally, Frank heard the ‘ding’ as the elevator doors opened down the hall and Red’s quick footsteps on the tiled floor. He sucked in a breath and held it as the doors to the Autopsy room slid open automatically and Red stepped in, silhouetted by the nasty fluorescent lights behind him that made him look like the angel he was.
Red stopped in the doorway and tilted his head to the side, a confused (and adorable) frown on his face as he tried to work out what was going on.
“Frank?”
“Hey, Red,” Frank greeted, the breath rushing out of him all at once. Red always left Frank a little breathless, whether that was laughter at something he'd said, nervousness, relief, awe, or wonder that someone so pure saw something in Frank – wanted Frank. Suddenly, Frank wasn’t so nervous, his eyes glued to his boyfriend to watch every little flicker of emotion over Red's face.
“What’s this?” Red said curiously.
Red hung his coat on the coatrack and stepped further into the room with a slight smile on his face. He headed straight to the little table Frank had set up in the middle of the room and ran his hand over the silk tablecloth Frank had managed to find, the currently unlit candles, the plates and cutlery – which were proper china, not paper plates, and set up correctly rather than dumped haphazardly like normal -, and the vase of (de-thorned) roses in the centre of the table. Red’s smile grew wider.
“Dinner,” Frank grunted, ever the wordsmith.
“Why?” Red asked, a slightly surprised tone to his voice. It wasn’t said in a way that implied it wasn’t welcome or that he was shocked Frank could be romantic, more surprise because there was no reason for it – no special occasion, no anniversary, no celebration, just a normal evening after a normal day at work – and seemed completely random. It wouldn’t be a surprise if there was a special occasion, but Red was wrong about there not being a reason.
“Because you deserve it,” Frank said. It was simply a fact; Red did deserve this and so much more, and Frank, as much as it broke his heart, knew that no matter what he said, Red would never truly believe that.
Red removed his glasses and tucked them into his pocket, and when he turned to Frank his eyes were wide and vulnerable. His mouth was open slightly in disbelief and his expression was so soft Frank’s heart melted. Frank ducked his head and gave him a shy smile, slightly embarrassed at how besotted he sounded. Perhaps Karen had been right and Frank was turning into a marshmallow. Only for Red though.
Red stepped forward so he was right in front of Frank, taking Frank’s hand gently in his and interlacing their fingers. Wordlessly, he tilted his head and kissed Frank softly on the lips, Frank smiling into it. It wasn’t one of their usual passionate, hungry kisses that led to sex, but it was no less meaningful. It was the sort Red would drop on Frank’s head when Frank was falling asleep on his chest in bed, or Frank would press to Red’s cheek when they were snuggled together on the couch, always bringing a sweet smile to his face. It spoke all the words and feelings Red didn’t say: gratitude, affection, love, and so much more that couldn’t be communicated via words.
When they parted, Frank led Red over to the table, never letting go of his hand. He pulled out one of the chairs and guided Red towards it.
“Sir,” Frank said lowly, bowing his head.
Red laughed like Frank had wanted and sat down as Frank tucked in his chair. Frank uncorked the bottle of wine and poured Red a glass, before filling up his own and taking a seat. He tried not to flinch when his chair screeched across the floor as he pulled himself closer to the table.
It may not be a fancy restaurant, but Frank was gonna make Red feel like a king this evening. They’d never been the fancy restaurant kinda people anyway, and having a romantic dinner in the Autopsy room was much more them.
“Is that Nonna’s?” Red asked, leaning forward and inhaling the smell of the food with a smile.
Frank grinned. Nonna’s was Red’s favourite. Frank had known that since before they started dating; it was hard not to when he practically salivated every time someone mentioned it, and then went into detailed descriptions of taste, smell and composition. Apparently, it was the only place in Hell’s Kitchen that managed to get the perfect balance of flavours and didn’t overwhelm Red’s tastebuds. He didn’t get to eat it often because they closed earlier than his shift usually finished, but when he did he always had this blissful look on his face for the rest of the evening.
So, of course, Frank was going to get that. Tonight was all about Red.
“Yup. Went to pick it up after my shift. Was gonna get it delivered but, you know.”
Red nodded in understanding. “Food thieves.”
“They’re a menace to society.”
“Nonna’s wouldn’t have stood a chance.”
Frank gestured to the food vaguely. Red didn’t need much prompting to dig in, immediately taking some bread rolls before handing the basket over to Frank. He then moved the cheese from his side of the table to Frank’s, and such a simple, thoughtless action made Frank’s chest feel warm. Red avoided strong cheese, but Frank loved it, and for Red to know him well enough – and care about him enough – that he handed it over automatically was…Well, it didn’t mean ‘everything’ to Frank, it was a piece of cheese, but it meant a lot; it meant more than Red could ever understand.
It showed how comfortable they were together, how they fit perfectly, and it made Frank even more certain that this was something he wanted to do. With all his heart, Frank wanted Red and to share his life with him, and the idea that he wouldn’t made him ache. Frank had exposed his heart to Red before, but this was the first big step towards them merging their two lives together and truly showing Red his intentions, how serious he was, and that this was it for him.
“How was your day? You catch many bad guys?” Red asked conversationally as he took a bite of garlic bread. Frank watched as Red’s expression melted into one of contentment and Frank smiled.
“Some. Bit preoccupied with the whole serial killer thing.” Frank smirked and linked his fingers together, resting his chin on them as he looked at Red. “And what about you, dear? How was your day?”
Red snorted and raised his eyebrows. “You really wanna talk about my day when we’re eating?” He gestured around the Autopsy room and then pointed to the refrigerated drawers.
“Point taken. What about the kids? They doing ok? Get off fine?”
“Foggy and Karen?” Red asked, catching on straight away. God, Frank loved him. “Karen got into a fight with O’Connor, Wilson and Gosnell earlier, after Curt’s experiment. Really laid into them about ethics, professionalism and them being just general scum bags.”
“Made them cry?”
Red shook his head. “They laughed in her face and called her ‘a pretty blonde thing who probably slept her way into the department.’”
Frank grimaced. “Bet that went over well.”
“Yup. She pulled out her gun and challenged them to a competition at the range so she could show them exactly how she got onto the team.”
Frank grinned. “Good girl.”
“I think she managed to scare Wilson straight. O’Connor reported her to the boss and Madani called Karen into her office.” Red smirked. “Made Karen a coffee and told her that next time she had a problem with someone to let her know, so she could bring snacks and watch Karen obliterate them. According to Foggy, who was up there when Karen left the office, O’Connor’s face fell ‘quicker than a dead body tied to a lead weight dropped in the sea’ and was an absolute picture when he realised Karen wasn’t getting fired and she smiled sweetly at him instead.”
Frank barked out a laugh. “That’s our girl.”
“She asked me for a crash course in martial arts so she could kill Gosnell at Fight Night. Told me O’Connor was all mine, but she wanted Gosnell crying on the floor. We’re meeting up tomorrow so I can teach her some basic level street fighting. Should be fun.” Red’s grin was all teeth, openly displaying his bloodlust. “Karen, Jess and Trish have also teamed up with Ellison to try and tackle cold cases in their off-time, and Ellison has set her up on a blind date with his nephew. She’s hopeful on the first, not so much on the second.”
“Do we have to defend her honour and kill him?”
“Seems like a nice guy. We’ll have to see how the first date goes and then decide.”
“And Nelson?”
“Foggy tripped earlier and face=planted right into Mrs Robinson’s open chest cavity whilst simultaneously managing to stab himself in the thigh with a scalpel. There was quite a lot of blood, and he bemoaned the fact he wouldn’t be able to fight on Friday due to his crippling wound. I'm going to have to restock the bandages because he used most of them to patch himself up.”
“He was planning to fight?” Frank asked, surprised.
Red laughed. “Marci suggested they sign up for the couples’ fight Danny proposed we start doing. Danny thinks it’ll be a good bonding experience and will test relationships, and Marci wants a stress-reliever. Poor Foggy is reluctantly being dragged along for the ride. Told me he was very much against the idea of a couples’ fight, partially because he thought it could ruin relationships, but mostly because he knew letting me and you fight together as a team against others was asking for trouble as we’d kick everyone’s butts at best, put most the department in the hospital and leave us understaffed at worst.”
“Hell yeah, we would!” Frank grinned, and when Red held out his hand for a high five, Frank happily complied. Instead of letting go, Frank linked their fingers together and rested them on the table.
Red smiled but didn’t comment. Then he suddenly straightened up as he realised something. “Oh, you’re the reason Foggy insisted he take off early! Turned me down for after work drinks at Josie’s with an ‘I spend so much more time with you than with Marci my old neighbour thought I was having an affair’ and parted with a ‘please disinfect all flat surfaces.’ I thought he was just being thorough with his job, but it was for you? You needed to set the dinner up?”
“Guilty. Although I did have to recruit Karen into reminding him.”
“Yeah, I love him but he’s never gonna be a secret agent. Can’t keep a secret to save his life. I’m surprised he didn’t blab. It was probably a wise decision to get Karen involved.” Red’s expression softened into something fond and wistful. “Foggy is actually really excited about officially living with Marci, even if he pretends it’s a chore. His parents are taking it as a sign of impending engagement. He’s starting to look for rings. I suppose that is the next step after moving in together.”
Frank chuckled to hide his audible swallow and suddenly dry throat. Because that was the next step in a conventional relationship: dating, a relationship, a key to each other’s places, moving in together, engagement, marriage, kids. It dawned on Frank that he was initiating the next step in their relationship, drawing them into the next phase, and that it would take them halfway to completeness.
The thought didn’t fill Frank with fear like it probably should. It made his heart beat faster, his stomach pool with warmth, and a smile tug at his lips. Red sensed it, and when he smiled back Frank’s breath caught. Simply watching Red talk, his face animated and passionate, made Frank feel so incredibly enamoured and affectionate. Frank could listen to him talk all day and never get bored just watching his facial expressions shift.
What actually filled Frank with fear was the thought it wouldn’t happen; that he wouldn’t get a lifetime with his Red. This felt right. This felt like it was it.
Frank's nerves disappeared as that thought settled into his brain.
“Any news about Mr Mittens?” Red continued.
Frank dragged himself out of his ‘I-am-so-in-love-with-Matthew-Murdock-and-don’t-care-who-knows-it’ bubble and nodded. “I asked around. He made it out of surgery with flying colours and is expected to make a full recovery. The department is paying for his medical bills due to, you know, one of its officers shooting him and putting him into the cat hospital.”
Red snorted in amusement but looked visibly relieved. “Good. I don’t think I have the heart to perform an autopsy on a cat.”
Frank smiled. “We’re not very good at normal domestic talk, are we? Our kids are getting into fights and accidentally falling into chest cavities and the cat has been shot.”
Red laughed loudly, the sound echoing around the room and the candles nearly blowing out with the force of his breath. “It’s kinda hard to be normal when you tackle people, put them in handcuffs, and investigate serial killers, and I cut up usually mushed-up bodies for a living.”
Frank shrugged. “Yeah, well, normal is overrated.”
Red smiled softly at him. “Normal is overrated,” he agreed. He squeezed Frank’s hand gently. “And I’m glad I get to live my not normal life with you.”
That was it. The perfect opening. Frank wouldn’t get a better opportunity to ease into the topic, to tell Red the reason for the fancy dinner, and what it was Frank wanted.
Frank cleared his throat and tightened his hold on Red’s hand. Red shuffled closer, clearly sensing the change in tone.
“Look, Red. I did have an ulterior motive with this romantic dinner thing.”
Red just smirked. “Obviously.”
Of course he’d clocked Frank and knew something was up. Frank wasn’t entirely sure whether to feel sheepish he’d been caught, pleased Red found him so easy to read and therefore Frank didn’t need to hide or state his feelings because Red already knew them, or kinda sad Red assumed there was an ulterior motive and Frank didn’t just wanna do something nice for him. Frank made a promise to himself to push Red out that mindset if it killed him.
“Right, well, um.” Red waited patiently for Frank to get his shit together and use his words. Frank had never been good at that. He shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out the little ring box he’d dug out his closet just for something to put the key in.
“Here.” Frank practically threw the box at Red. His leg immediately started bouncing nervously as he watched for Red’s reaction. “You don’t have to say yes, obviously. No pressure. I just thought...” Frank trailed off.
Red’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline as he reached forward to pick the box up curiously. He turned it over in his hands a few times and ran his fingers over the little ribbon Frank had tied to the top because Frank was a complete sap when it came to Red, getting a feel for it and considering it thoroughly.
Belatedly, Frank realised that throwing a ring box at Red during a romantic dinner might make Red think this was something else.
“It’s not a proposal or anything. Not yet,” Frank said hurriedly, before Red could get the wrong idea. His heart rate picked up when he noticed Red’s happy little smile at the ‘yet’ and the confirmation that it would be something Red was interested in: committing himself to Frank, Frank committing himself to Red, together for the rest of their lives and taking on the world as a team. “It’s a bit soon for that?” He said uncertainly. Honestly, he was becoming less and less sure on that fact by the hour. “Plus, I’d like to think I’d manage to plan something a bit more romantic than a candlelit dinner next to four dead bodies for a proposal,” he mumbled, ignoring Red’s snort and muttered ‘it is romantic’. “And it’s not me asking you to move in with me. Again, bit soon.” Frank was even less sure on that. “I mean, Nelson and Stahl have only just taken that step and they’ve been together, what? Two years?”
“Four.”
“Right…Wait, four?!”
Red nodded, looking like he was trying not to laugh. Frank knew it wasn’t about Nelson; he was amused by Frank stumbling over his words and rambling, something that was completely uncharacteristic of Frank. He was usually someone who kept things short, said what he needed to say and that was that, and if he was nervous - which he never was – he shut his mouth rather than bumble on like an idiot.
“Yeah, I don’t want to wait that long,” Frank admitted. “I was thinking maybe a couple of years or something.”
A lie, one Red would be able to pick up on. Frank was actually thinking closer to a year, but he wasn’t sure he could even make it that long. He was already breaking in and sleeping at Red’s place three nights a week, with Red usually staying at Frank’s shitty apartment two nights. It made Frank simultaneously uncomfortable, happy, and peaceful seeing Red sleeping in Frank’s bed or pottering around his tiny kitchen making coffee like he was in his own home. On one hand, Red was in Frank’s home and with him, safe and happy, living in as close to domestic bliss as possible right now. On the other, Frank’s place was filthy. Frank tried to keep it clean and throw everything in the closet to hide the mess, especially if he knew Red was coming over, but it was difficult in such a small space and trying to break old habits was proving to be a challenge. Of course, Red told him it didn’t matter, he didn’t care about the mess and Frank didn’t need to worry about impressing him. The first time he’d been at Frank’s after they’d officially got together, Red had immediately eyed the closet with a raised eyebrow and a pointed look. He’d then helpfully reminded Frank that he’d been to Frank’s apartment the first night they’d met, and he distinctly remembered the clothes flung everywhere and plates in the sink, and there was no way Frank had reformed that quickly. Didn’t stop Frank from being a little tidier though.
There had been a couple of times when they’d overlapped on where they stayed. Frank would never forget the time he’d broken into Red’s apartment and made dinner for the two of them after a heavy day at work. Then, when Red wasn’t home several hours after his shift finished, Frank had flown into a panic that Red was missing or kidnapped or in trouble and called everyone he thought would know what happened. Frank had stopped off at his apartment to gather his gear, ready for battle and about to meet up with the troops he’d managed to round up (Nelson, Karen, Curt, Jones and Liberman) when he’d noticed his window was open, which he always left shut. The bedroom light was on, and Frank had tentatively pushed open the door, gun raised and expecting a kidnapper with a ransom demand. What he'd found was an annoyed Red with crossed arms, tapping his foot with a frown on his face and a “and where the hell do you think you’ve been?” Turned out Red had scaled up five floors, jimmied the lock on Frank’s window, and set up dinner and a movie as a surprise because he knew Frank had had a rough day. Frank had cut off Red’s tirade before it started and kissed him for all he was worth, holding him close in case Frank lost him again, and feeling so relieved it was disorientating. It was only after two rounds of intense sex he’d remembered the others and quickly called them, apologies on his lips and a sheepish explanation at the ready. He hadn’t needed it. The group had started looking for Matt without Frank and found him before Frank even made it to his apartment. David had hacked the security cameras near Red’s apartment and followed him all the way to Frank’s, seen his act of criminal behaviour and breaking and entering, and called everyone off. Nelson had already panicked and called Mahoney, his and Red’s friend who was the only one working the night shift, about Red’s kidnapping, so it took a couple of phone calls to get everyone to stand down. Everyone was debriefed and down at the bar laughing at Frank’s expense, because they’d all mutually decided not to tell Frank just to watch the fireworks.
“No, me neither,” Red said softly, and before Frank could say anything he’d pulled the ribbon and opened the box.
Frank held his breath as Red carefully picked up the key and traced his fingers over the surface and ridges, his head tilted to the side.
“This is a key to your apartment?” Red asked, his voice not giving anything away.
Frank made a sound caught somewhere between a grunt and a high-pitched squeal in confirmation.
Red stopped tracing the key and turned his attention back to Frank. He gave him a warm, fond smile full of love. “Breathe, Frank.”
Frank did, exhaling the air in his lungs sharply and all at once. The smile was good, right? Meant Red was happy with the development and he wasn't gonna toss Frank aside or freak out on him? Or was Red being so calm and smiley to let Frank down gently?
Frank’s mind went blank when Red leaned forward across the table and kissed him softly on the cheek. Frank’s lips twitched up into an easy smile at the action.
“Stop overthinking it,” Red said. He smiled down at the key. “Thank you. I love it.”
Frank smiled back, relieved.
“Now I don’t have to break in every night. Your neighbours are starting to get suspicious. I heard Roger from next door ask his wife if they should call the cops because he thought he saw some strange, hooded figure breaking and entering. Luckily, his wife just thinks he’s losing it, but pretty sure Brett’s fielding calls.”
Frank squeezed his wrist. “You sure? It’s not too soon?”
Why was he pushing this? Red had said yes. Curt had always said Frank was prone to self-sabotage and not accepting a good thing when it was offered to him freely, and this was just another indication he was right. Red hadn’t reacted badly, had been enthusiastic, and there was no sign this wasn’t something that he wanted. Would Frank’s question make Red think Frank wasn’t serious or wasn’t certain that they should do this, or that he didn’t want it, when it was pretty much all Frank wanted? Was Frank just being clingy and asking for reassurance when he didn’t need it? Why didn’t he just accept Red’s answer without protest?
Because you want him to be comfortable. You want him to mean it.
Red stilled for a moment before sighing and withdrawing his hand. Frank instantly felt the loss and resisted the urge to grab it back and never let it go. Panic shot through him at the possibility that Frank’s comment had made Red change his mind or, worse, that Red was about to admit that yes, it was too soon, Frank was crazy and maybe they should wait. When Red pushed his chair back and stood up, Frank felt his stomach twist and felt vaguely nauseous as he watched Red walk away. Red stopped near the coat rack and jammed his hand in one of his coat pockets, rummaging around before pulling something small out with a little hum of triumph. Frank felt his body physically sag with relief when Red walked back to him.
Instead of sitting back in his chair, Red came to stand right next to Frank. He gently grabbed Frank’s hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of it chastely before pressing something small and sharp into Frank’s palm. Red clasped both his hands over Frank’s and squeezed, before retreating back to his own chair.
“I had this made months ago,” Red said, smiling sheepishly. “I just…Well, I didn’t want to freak you out. I thought if I gave it to you then, you’d think it was moving too fast, too quickly, run screaming and put in for a transfer to Queens or something. And then who would I eat ice cream in the Autopsy freezer with?”
He was acting calm and confident, but Frank knew Red, and he knew the little quiver in his voice and the way he was wringing his hands under the table meant he was nervous.
Frank glanced down and opened his palm. He stared down at the little key sitting there innocently, wondering how something so small could be so significant. He clenched his fist around it tightly, scared he’d lose it or Red would snatch it away from him. Frank would never lose this, couldn’t lose it; if he had to fashion it into a pendant so he could keep it safely with him at all times, he would happily take all the jeers and teasing remarks from his friends.
Red’s leg was bouncing under the table nervously. Frank brushed his own leg against Red’s and smiled when the bouncing immediately stopped.
“I love you,” Frank said softly.
Red didn’t need any more words than that. Frank watched his whole body relax and his face break out into a smile. He reached out and squeezed Frank’s hand, before leaning back again and turning Frank's key over in his hands with a slight smile still dancing on his lips.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure not to lose my own apartment key so you don’t end up stuck with me when my landlord thinks I’m dead like poor Marci and Foggy,” Red said.
Frank’s thoughts screeched to a halt before they started back up again at double speed when Red’s words sunk in and with it, realisation. Frank immediately started trying to formulate a plan on how to steal Red’s apartment key and, when he realised it would be almost impossible to steal from a man who had Frank’s heartbeat memorised and could smell his presence days after he’d been in a place, started calculating how fast he could lose his own apartment key without it looking suspicious.
“Are you alright?”
Frank was silent for a long moment. Because what was there to say to that? ‘I hope you do lose it’? ‘I want you to be stuck with me’? ‘I wouldn’t be opposed to you moving in with me’? In Frank’s head it was a certainty: he wanted to live with Red and they would, he didn’t care how and he didn’t care when, he just hoped it was sooner rather than later.
Frank’s silence seemed to say what his words couldn’t because Red beamed at him and leaned forward again, running his fingers through Frank’s short hair before cupping the side of Frank’s face and stroking his cheek.
“I’ll clear out a draw.”
Frank hummed happily. “And whilst you’re doing that, I’m gonna go out and buy you the fanciest, most fool-proof key ring I can find so you can put both of our keys on it.”
Red tilted his head at Frank. “Oh, you really don’t want me to lose them?”
Frank shook his head, and before Red’s smile could fade, he continued. “Your place is bigger.”
It took a moment for Red to realise what Frank was saying, but when he did…
There it was. The best sight in the whole goddamn world.
Red’s face lit up and before Frank knew it, his arms were full of his Red.
Frank held Red tightly to him with one arm, and with the other clenched his hand around his new key, refusing to let either of them go. The weight of his partner securely in his arms, Red’s own arm flung around Frank’s shoulders as he held Frank just as tightly, with Red’s face buried in Frank’s neck and Frank’s buried in Red’s hair, drawing in his scent, was as close to heaven as Frank would ever come. And the key…
The key was more than just a key. It was reassurance. It was hope. It was love. It was a promise.
“I love you,” Red whispered. It wasn’t the first time he’d said it, far from it, but it was the first time Frank truly believed him. He believed that Red wasn’t just saying it as a throwaway term of endearment that so many other people did, that he completely loved the unlovable Frank Castle, and perhaps, loved Frank just as much as Frank loved him.
Frank glanced down and saw Red’s knuckles were white with how hard he was gripping Frank’s apartment key. He hid his smile in Red’s hair because he knew, in that moment, that Red was holding on to that promise with the same ferocity as Frank: the promise of a future together, with neither of them willing to let the other go.